


Door to Another Life

by neevebrody



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Canon Het Relationship, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-14
Updated: 2010-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As epiphanies go, it's not up there with figuring out why light behaves as both particles and waves, or even discovering a new math that you can't decipher, but it's just as earth shattering to Rodney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Door to Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> For Challenge #64 - Epiphany  
> Mention/description of (not so joyous) het sex

Jennifer has gone quiet, her face drawn. Rodney feels the sweat across his back. He senses she's far from climaxing, but he's having problems of his own just staying hard. As he guides himself inside again, he leans down to kiss her and whisper in her ear… he loves her. She sighs and curls her legs around his waist.

Rodney pulls back and has to concentrate on her face instead of the way she's not looking at him. On her smooth, radiant skin, the way her hair forms a golden halo across the pillow, and the ripple of her breasts with each thrust. He palms one. It's soft but firm, and he smiles when the nipple hardens. She exhales another sigh, closes her eyes and turns her head to the side.

Still, Rodney has to resort to a few old fantasies of Sam to keep going. Then he thinks of John. He'd bet a month's salary this never happens to Sheppard, and in a bizarre twist, he's thrown right into the image of taut, straining muscles, those skinny legs, bracing on strong arms as his hips work, and that…

Jennifer's face becomes clear again as the first waves start to pulse through him and, for once, the thought that maybe pleasure isn't exactly the expression on her face blindsides him. And that almost… but it's too late, he's already jerking inside her, and she's making those panting noises and little moans.

Only Rodney's mind knows the difference and won't let him enjoy the rest of his orgasm.

~~~~

"Whoa, whoa… Rodney… Rodney?!"

"What?"

John tosses the magazine he's been reading onto a stack by the bed. "Ever heard of TMI? Jesus."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Rodney looks down at his hands. He's sitting on the little sofa across from John. There is a point to all this. "So? Anything like that ever happen to you… I mean, when you know they're faking?" John's silence forces a little self-deprecating huff. "Yeah. I thought so."

"No, it's not that… it's just that I'm not exactly comfortable discussing your sex life with Keller."

Rodney nods. Yep, he's on his own with this one. He looks up at John to ask something else, but John's busy polishing one of his golf clubs now. Yes, and that usually means discussion over.

He stands and hesitates, for what he's not sure, and then he turns toward the door. John's voice catches him up short.

"You ever thought this thing with Keller might not be…"

Rodney looks around. The concentration John's giving the club is way more than it deserves. "Might not be what?"

The motion can't merely be classified as a shrug. No, it's more, it's intrinsic, truly Sheppardian, and should really be named accordingly, only Rodney's too focused on the lines of John's profile to hazard a try. "What you want it to be," John answers, digging the cloth into the grooves of the clubhead.

And this brings Rodney slowly back to re-take his spot on the sofa.

"How's everything else going?" John asks in a way that makes Rodney think he's trying to hurry the words out of his mouth. "You know, sex isn't the only thing."

Rodney blinks. "Well, it might not be, but it's a pretty, damn, big… thing." The sliver of a smile crooks the corner of John's mouth, so Rodney feels comfortable to continue. "We're fine, I guess. I'm getting better, you know, trying not to be so negative. Nobody likes a Gloomy Gus, after all. Spending a little less time in the lab. Jennifer jokes that she can take me out in public now."

A low grumbling noise comes from John's direction, but there's no outward sign he made it as he continues to polish vigorously.

"I really am lucky. Somebody like Jennifer…"

"What I'm saying, Rodney, is that one, you shouldn't have to _change_ for anyone, and two, if there is a problem with the… you know… those might be red flags."

"You think so?"

John looks at him then, straight into his eyes, and though it's only passing, Rodney feels stripped bare. Heat sweeps over his chest and up the back of his neck, forcing his gaze down to where his hands fidget in his lap.

"I've never thought there was anything wrong with you that letting a little air out of that ego of yours wouldn't help." John's voice curls inside Rodney's ears. From the corner of his eye, he sees the golf club stretched across John's knees. "Just seems to me someone who says they care so much would want you for who you are."

"Take me as I come, you mean."

"I always have. Never had any complaints."

Rodney looks up. John gives him one of those smile-nice-for-the-natives half-grins – half, because that makes it more genuine – before replacing the club and taking out another one. "Food for thought," he says, and starts polishing, this time with a finality that puts Rodney on his feet again.

Rodney thanks John and walks to the door. He wonders if there's anything constructive to take away from their conversation, or if he's fallen prey – yet again – to another of those Sheppardian quirks: answering a question by skirting the issue and leaving the asker balanced on their own petard. Not that that wasn't an enviable quality at times, but it was damned annoying if you were the one needing an answer.

"And, Rodney? Remember what I said about TMI."

He lifts his hand to signal he's gotten the message loud and clear. In the corridor outside John's quarters, Rodney makes the decision to have an early dinner and work on those reports Woolsey keeps badgering him about. Or he could go down to the infirmary and keep Jennifer company. Maybe he should just ask her – talking is something they've always been good at. No, the reports win out. Besides, he's suddenly not so sure he wants this problem – if it is a problem – solved after all.

~~~~

As epiphanies go, it's not up there with figuring out why light behaves as both particles and waves, or even discovering a new math that you can't decipher, but it's just as earth shattering to Rodney.

And it takes the same course as most epiphanies – a bolt from the blue, a sit-you-straight-up-in-the-bed brain wave at 2:30 in the morning.

He almost makes it back to the bed from the bathroom – seconds away from warmth and a return to sleep – when the words appear clearly in his head, like writing on a white board, emphasis added: _discussing your sex life… **with Keller**_.

Then, Rodney's brain (being Rodney's brain at 2:30 am) fast forwards the conversation with John and stops at _I always have_ and then the smile. And, that? Well, that… Suddenly, his mouth is dry, his palms are wet, and there's only one thing to do.

~~~~

"Epiphany? Do you know what time it is, McKay?" He had knocked as loudly as he'd dared, even though John's quarters are located at one of the side corridors off to itself. At first, he'd thought John might not have heard him, but now he's just worried his timing could have been a bit better. "Unless it involves a way to get rid of the Wraith, I'd appreciate it if we could discuss this after the sun comes up."

If the situation wasn't so important, this little vignette would be downright surreal. Rodney realizes, in a moment of abject horror, that he hasn't bothered with shoes, or a shirt for that matter. Deciding to barrel ahead and get this over with, he notices John's attention fixed squarely on his bare chest, something that makes his cheeks feel the way Sheppard's look.

As John turns away, the crimson stain wraps around his neck as well, and Rodney feels a pang of sympathy. But, dammit, this is all John's fault, so he can just face the music right along with Rodney.

"You said you were uncomfortable discussing my sex life with Jennifer."

Rodney watches the color bleed from John's neck. "So."

Normally Rodney wants to see John's eyes when he talks to him, because that's where you look when you need to know what John's really thinking. He may have found a way to train his facial muscles or to force a body language into not giving away his secrets, but he can't do the same with those eyes. For some reason, though, with the two of them standing here in the middle of the room, Rodney's okay with that safety net of indirect glances.

"So maybe you're not so uncomfortable if it involves someone else. You for instance."

If John's surprised by Rodney's candor, he doesn't show it. Not a flinch or even a beat. "And you base that amazing statement on one sentence? Which, by the way, I was only trying to—"

"No, no, no. On my way over here I replayed dozens of conversations in my head. Words, phrases, looks… like a toaster, popping up everywhere." Rodney takes a step to the side, just catching the twitch in John's mouth, the way he does when he's trying not to laugh. "Bottom line here, the shroud has lifted; I've stepped in front of the clue bus, so to speak. Which means you can't hide behind it anymore."

John begins to pace a little. "Who's hiding?"

Rodney knows he's itching to, but even John can't justify cleaning golf clubs or reading comics at 2:30 in the morning. "Well, I think that's obvious. You throw out a little nugget here, another one there… honestly, I think part of you hopes I don't catch on while the other is scared to death I will. Toss out enough bread crumbs and even I'll pick up the trail eventually."

John finally turns around. His fingers rest on a holster that isn't there. "I think you've tripped over one to many metaphors there, McKay. All this is one huge stretch—"

"Then why have you been pitching like a girl if you never meant for me to catch anything?"

John frowns as his brows knit together. He looks from the floor to Rodney, licks his lips, and says, "I always thought my delivery was totally Ryan Express." He makes a quick curving motion in the air with his hand and a kind of _foooom_ sound.

"You know very well the significance of that quip is lost on me. If you want to dissuade me of this notion, you're going to have to do better than that."

"Something scientific?" John moves closer. Somehow, he manages to do it without making it look like he's getting closer.

"Response based on known stimuli," Rodney offers.

John's lips tighten. The same way they do any time Rodney says something John needs to find a way around. With no preliminaries, Rodney closes the distance between them, carefully avoids looking directly into John's eyes and kisses him. On the mouth.

It's a dry sort of kiss. Rodney thinks his head might be turned wrong, and there's no touching at all, though Rodney finds he really wants to. Still, John's lips are warm and soft, and Rodney thinks idly that he hadn't expected them to be. It's hard to tell if the way his heart's beating is due to the actual kiss or just the _idea_ of it.

"There," he says, pulling back, like that makes it official. "Interesting, wouldn't you say?" He catches a breath, still not looking at John.

"And you're backing your epiphany with that? That's what you're using to convince _me_?

Rodney clears his throat and prepares to defend himself.

"Sort of a grandma kiss, don'cha think?" Delivered in that oft-annoying, whiny drawl, John takes him by surprise with the rest, "I'm not sure you're using the proper stimulus."

"No? Okay, well, yes… I suppose another test is in order anyway." He takes his own step closer and, almost as an afterthought, lays a hand on John's hip; the warmth bleeds through the dark blue sweat pants into his palm. Rodney wets his lips, rights his head at a better angle this time, and…

John leans in and takes Rodney's face in his hands. This time when their lips meet, it's animated. Sparks fly. It's wet and hot and not very graceful, and before it's over, their bodies are pressed to each other from chest to knees, Rodney's hands caught beneath John's tee shirt in a search for bare skin. He'd be aware of John's sleepy scent, too, only Rodney can't breathe, or he's forgotten how.

The kiss ends not abruptly, but with a slow give and take that has Rodney wanting just one more taste before he lets go. He needs to rest his forehead against John's while he compiles the data: lips, tingling (as well as other body parts); head, light; heart, racing; breath, barely; dick, definitely not soft and very much at home next to John's (also, not soft); desire to repeat stimulus, right up there with stumbling upon a fully-charged ZPM, or three.

But before he can impart any of this and revel in his insight, John speaks up and Rodney realizes he doesn't need to tell John anything. John already knows.

"Okay, I'll give you that one," he says. "But Rodney, it doesn't change anything. I can't—"

"Oh wait, but that's over right? It's almost a done deal, isn't it?"

When John pulls away, Rodney immediately feels as if he's missing something vital. "It's funny, I've wanted to think of it happening for a long time, wondering what it would be like. Not having to serve behind a mask. But it'll just be one set of regs replaced by another. They can't abolish this policy without putting something else in place."

"But the ramifications… you'll be able to—"

"Old ramifications replaced with a whole new set. Not so much here in Atlantis, but not everyone in the military is tolerant and understanding, Rodney. And with Congress leading the dance, that's just a clusterfuck waiting to happen."

He feels a little like an explorer who's made a discovery no one gives a shit about. Things have gone from Eureka to Oh My God to What the Fuck with alarming speed.

"Okay, I've had enough of being the genius for one day. What do we do about this?"

"What do you want to do about it?"

"Oh, do not give me that question for question bullshit. Tired, remember? And don't ask me what I _want_, because right now, you, naked, and bed are about the only things I'm capable of focusing on. You want to be the voice of reason… now's your chance."

"I can't."

"What does that mean?"

"Means just what you think it means." And even without seeing John's face, Rodney knows he's right. It would be so easy to fall into bed together, so easy to say screw the consequences just give me a blowjob, and Rodney senses they're both really close to just that.

"I'm sorry, John." Rodney doesn't even know where the words come from, but in the same way, he's sure John knows exactly what he means.

"'s okay. You've got your own ramifications to think about."

"Huh?"

"What about Keller?" And there is it – the elephant in the room.

It's not going to be easy, then again, maybe easier than Rodney wants to admit. Clearly, something's missing for Jennifer, and maybe he's in denial that her distance has something to do with him. For just a moment, he thinks what if the same thing happens with John. Will they even get that far? "Yes, I think Jennifer and I will need to have a long talk. Like you said, sex isn't everything, and—"

John shifts his weight and Rodney listens as the long, ragged breath infects the air.

"That really bothers you, doesn't it? That you might have done something to—"

John raises his hand. "Whatever you do has to be between the two of you, Rodney. I can't have any part in your decision."

"But that's ridiculous. Of course, you have a…" It doesn't quite have the same impact, doesn't smack into him like the others, but he realizes without thinking too much about it that John is right. This is between him and Jennifer and he's just going to have to be man enough to face up to that and to face up to her.

And no matter what happens, he doesn't want to hurt her. Doesn't want there to be that awful, awkwardness that happens to him when a relationship goes south. But Jennifer's different, so there's some hope there. At this point, Rodney doesn't have a clue how it will all turn out, but he knows one thing.

He steps over and fills the space behind John. So close the heat from their bodies fuses together, warming him and making John visibly relax. "I need to know I'm doing the right thing."

John shakes his head.

Safety net be damned. "Look at me." He needs to see John's eyes for this. John turns slowly, arms circling Rodney's waist like it's something he does every day, and Rodney wonders if he even knows he's doing it, or if it's something he's wanted for so long it just seems right.

True to form, the kiss isn't an answer, but it's not a question either. It's not a statement, a bribe, or even a promise. It's there and then it's gone, just that fast.

The unspoken _goodnight, Rodney_ hovers in the space between them. Just in case, Rodney watches those slightly swollen lips for a moment. And while the kiss doesn't exactly reveal what it is…

Rodney steps back out of John's arms. The door to what feels like another life seems so close, and yet so far at the same time.

… at least Rodney knows what it isn't. And that might just be enough to work with.

For now.


End file.
